Armageddon
by the wild semicolon
Summary: -"Inevitable. Ineffable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it?"- A new Rider story from a dragon's POV.
1. The Hatching

**Armageddon**

Ineffable. Inevitable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it? Please, just give a chance.

…

…

_Dragons will wait for their true Rider._

They'll wait for years. Centuries. Some dragons never hatch.

There's Saphira. I knew her, in the way of how a human twin is conscious of the other in the womb. They lose their ineffable knowledge of each other as they grow older, although.

We lost our knowledge of each other, but we knew we once knew each other.

Thorn I knew too. We did not speak directly, or at all. We simply were aware and knew each other.

Saphira was torn from our company.

It did not affect us. We wondered where she was, yet we never were afflicted. Neither was she.

Also, when Thorn hatched. I sensed a presence (a human), but it was all wrong (for me). His life force was Red (for Thorn).

Thorn matched him, down to the core. It was his time. He shook his way out of his century-old home and his mind cleared.

We know things when we are still in our eggs. We balance on the verge of existence and creation. I knew Thorn's life force was Red. So was the human's.

When creatures walk by, potential Riders, they each have their own force. It comes in colors and shades. The one who regularly brought new and uninteresting creatures to see us, his life force was muddled. I could sense gray, but now it seemed both black and

_Wrong._

He wasn't supposed to exist.

Saphira was torn away by a Violet. I sensed my own color was a dark Green. So when Thorn had left, I stayed in my protective shell, waiting, and ignoring all the creatures the Wrong one had brought to me.

I knew my name was Tyra. We all knew our true names, our meant ones. Since we were magicked not to hatch until our Rider came along, when we were spelled from wild dragons to a Rider's.

Then it changed.

…

I could tell my Rider was near. My thoughts were already becoming clearer, my mind recognizing sounds from the basic knowledge that every creature is born with, whether it remembers or not. Sounds vibrated inside my shell, sounds I never noticed traveled inside.

I couldn't hear them, really, but I felt the vibrations. My shell was growing thinner, and I felt the warm touch of a girl's hand.

Green. She was a Green.

Time.

It takes a while for one to hatch. The other creatures never realize our shells are just as magic as we are.

…

My Rider is still there. It's been about twenty-four hours, and though it usually takes longer, her constant presence is helping with the process.

I nose my shell. I have considerably more room now, and also I find that I have a desire to move, rather then simply exist in my mind.

My shell is thin enough. I feel that one tooth, the one I know is for breaking my shell. I crack it against the harder-then-diamond substance that is my egg and it cracks, but only slightly.

I pound it again.

A chip falls. I run my tooth down the edges, where the crack speeds above me and my shell falls apart.

I bring my previously unused muscles and stand up feebly. Here, I know, I am at my most vulnerable.

I take a look at the creatures' face. I see the usual one, the onewho'slifeforceisnotquiteright. I turn my head to the left and see my Rider.

Her face is brown-skinned, with violet eyes and long brown locks. She's dressed in unfamiliar substances, artificial mimics of human skin.

She brings out her hand instinctively, and I touch it with my nose for the _gedwey ignasia._

I can tell it hurts her. She jumps back and cradles her hand.

Suddenly I feel a pressure on my stomach, and I am lifted into the air. I flare my small and as of yet useless wings and attempt to bite the human hand holding me.

The male human turns me to face him. I twist my head and try to bite him, but my neck is not yet long enough.

His face changes to sickening amusement.

"Do not worry, dragon. One day you will be big enough to bite as many hands as you wish."

This does not settle me. I squirm yet more.

His eyes are black. His face is bristly with a bit of fur on his chin, and he's wearing red and gold colors.

_He's all wrong._

He forces me to look at him. Suddenly he lets out a laugh.

The human turns swiftly and strides outside, opening a strange wooden material and bounds it open.

Masses upon masses of humans stand there. Some look nervous, some look triumphant. The human who carries me holds me out to them.

"This is the Green Dragon! My next ally. She and her Rider shall bring Armageddon to all who defy me, as it has been foretold. Dragon," he turns me to face him. "from here on out, you shall be called Armageddon!"

A force pushes inside my mind. It's not the human, or any creature. It's the magic. The original, and untainted pure magic that gave me the name Tyra.

Riders are supposed to name their dragon. Ancient laws.

Yet ancient laws matter none here. I feel the naming come over me, a dread; as if this one action has changed the course of what was once inevitable.

Ineffable. Inevitable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it?

…

**Okay, I think I majorly sucked at the speech. Feel free to rip apart and criticize. But as long as you review.**

**Come on, press the button. All it takes is a simple 'good' or 'bad', if you're so lazy as to not want to leave a review. Even a G or B, if you'd like. Maybe a 'great' would be nice. ****:)**

~CRYSTAL


	2. The Stairs

**Armageddon**

"Ineffable. Inevitable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it?" Please, just give a chance. I don't own the Inheritance Cycle.

…

…

_Riders always are bonded to their dragons beyond all sane levels._

So true.

My Rider, whom I have learned is named Eyddr, is the product of a rich nobleman and a poor mistress. Her mother left her with her father, who was an amateur spell caster and hated her. As one might guess, he was the one to name her.

After I learn more of human culture, I learn that Eyddr is treated as much more then simply a noble's daughter. I suppose it is because she is now a fabled Dragon Rider. Her violet eyes are a rarity, as I have understood after being encountered by many others of her kind. Her brownish-copper skin shows her inheritance from her mother's side.

As Galbatorix--the human who has disregarded the ancient rules and renamed me Armageddon--searches our minds for any disloyalty, he forces us to open the bridge between Rider and Dragon rather then discover it on our own. Because of this, it becomes harder for either Eyddr or I to close the connection.

Apparently, while I rested inside my peaceful egg, Thorn and Murtagh (his Rider) have encountered the 'despicable pair', Eragon and Saphira.

Saphira. My old sister.

Alas, Thorn and Murtagh let them go free and unharmed, so they are currently residing in the dungeons, having taken all the punishment Galbatorix has chosen to wreak upon them.

He's chosen not to punish me or my Rider as of yet, and I suspect this is because he thinks I am to young to tolerate the amount of torture he believes it will take for me to fully learn my lesson. The other humans also whisper he is contemplating taking Eyddr as a bride.

These whispers sicken me. Eyddr is beautiful, from a human's point of view, but she is but 18. Much to young to become queen or even a lover to a hundred-year-old king.

At the moment, I lay beside Eyddr, while she eats a banquet prepared specifically for her. She is dressed in a long gold dress, which seems to flow and ripple like water. No doubt sewn with magic. It enhances her copper skin and she seems to enjoy being treated like royalty.

I'm still small, about the size of a large house cat. Galbatorix keeps talking about the 'heart of hearts' which will apparently enhance my growth. He says I must develop my wings a bit first. That's apparently what went wrong with Thorn's growth--he has no stamina for flying.

I haven't met Galbatorix's dragon yet. I'm not quite sure I want to, either.

"Armageddon," Eyddr says cheerfully. She holds out a strange-shaped piece of meat while I raise my head reluctantly.

"It's a turkey leg," she explains at my hesitance. "I think you'll like it."

I hesitantly let her drop in front of me, and I gnaw a bit off with my teeth. I immediately spit it out, hating the taste.

"You don't like it?"

_It's a bit overcooked for me,_ I say.

Eyddr shrugs and returns to her food, working on another turkey leg. For someone so thin and beautiful, she does like to eat.

A passing soldier--around the age of 16--stumbles to a stop by her, and she smiles.

"H-h-h-hi." he stutters.

"Hello," Eyddr says.

He fidgets there, and then mumbles, "I'm Aaron."

"Eyddr." No matter what it really means, Eyddr seems to be quite proud of her name.

"I-I have a message for," he clears his throat. "the Green Dragon and her Rider. From-from the prisoner."

_Prisoner?_ Eyddr asks in my head. My evident confusion shows her I have no inkling of who he's talking about. I give my Rider the go-ahead and she nods jerkily to the boy. "Speak."

He clears his throat, looking around cautiously. "I'm not to say this in the presence of the king." he swallows as he looks around again.

"Speak!" Eyddr orders.

He coughs. "Escape while you can."

"I'm sorry?"

"Escape while y-"

"Soldier!" Seemingly out of nowhere, the king swoops down on us. Eyddr snaps her head up to look at him while he grabs the collar of Aaron's shirt.

He drags him away. Eyddr throws down her food and hurries after, leaving me no choice but to follow.

"Your Majesty, is this really necessary?" She begs as she hurries alongside the king, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Stand down, Rider!" Galbatorix bellows at her. She halts, surprise on her face. His Majesty is a rather charming human, usually.

_What was that all about?_ Eyddr wonders as we watch Aaron shake and stutter as he's dragged down the hall.

She seems to expect no answer, and I give her none.

We return to our feast, and I contemplate escaping the palace to hunt. I decide against it, as I have no knowledge of how to hunt nor the palace. I've only visited Galbatorix's chambers, where he forced me to learn his language, Eyddr's chambers, and the egg room, where I was kept before being hatched, along with the dining room.

I lay my head down again, propping it against my paws.

_You know, if you visit the butcher, I'm sure he'll have some meat for you,_ Eyddr says in my head.

I shake my head, not-fully-grown ears flopping almost comically against the sides of my snout.

_Well, at least get something to eat,_ Eyddr complains. _You're making me still hungry, and I've been eating for twenty minutes. _

Oh. I didn't realize that all of her continuous eating was because of my overlapping hunger.

_It's not,_ Eyddr says. _I do like to eat, but this is a bit much even for me._

I fold, and get up from my seat beside Eyddr on the bench. I don't know how to get around the palace, but I'm sure some exploring would be good for me.

_I'll be back,_ I send to Eyddr. She waves me away, and concentrates on her cherries.

I walk away. Luckily, it's been a few days since my hatching, and I've learned how to perfect my vision so as to see much better.

Pupil increasing is voluntary for dragons, not reflexive like humans. Night vision is impeccable for us, as soon as we learn to control it.

Skulking down the corridor, I keep to the side, where my dark green scales are less apparent. The few creatures who spot me immediately hurry away. The corridor is bare and plain, with gray walls and floor along with the occasional portrait or painting.

I turn to the right, where I feel a cold breeze. I see a tight-fit staircase which spirals down into the earth, with a narrow opening I'm not sure even dainty Eyddr could fit inside, much less any other human. I consider going down, but decide against it--I'm not so good with stairs yet.

I prowl around the opening, wondering what it was for. The opening has partly-filled hinges on the right--as if a door was once there, but removed. It's strangely tall, with the top reaching all the way to the corridor's ceiling. An oddity in a usually perfect palace.

I examine the floor, my nose sniffing for any clues as to what this is. I inhale some of the dust and sneeze, a small plume of smoke escaping my nostrils.

I didn't know I could do that. I sniff the smoke--it reeks with a Green force. It also smells strange, a strong sense with an indescribable scent of a newborn.

Is that my scent?

As I step a bit closer, my foot slips on the rough-looking stone. I soon discover it's actually smooth, as I crash down the steps, hitting against the wall and bending my legs unpleasantly. Falling down the stairs, rather painfully.

_Ow!_ I moan, using an expression Eyddr taught me.

As my head knocks against the wall--the force causes me to bounce in a slightly different direction so as to prolong the staircase experience--I instinctively open my wings, and end up soaring through the air like an overgrown bird. I bank to the right almost naturally, to avoid hitting the wall.

I wing my way left and right, for a full two minutes until I consider trying to fly _up_. It's too late by then, when the staircase ends and I'm flying through pitch black darkness.

"Who's there?" a gruff human voice calls out. It has a repeated mimic, each one smaller then the last.

I swing to the left, following the voice. Knowing humans, this creature would probably have a lantern--an artificial source of light.

I see glow far ahead, and I follow it to the best of my ability. As I manage to adjust my night vision, I see two walls on either side of me, rather large-spaced and high. I assume I'm underground, if the darkness and earthy smell is any hint.

I land in front of a large male human, bigger then normal around the abdomen, and a small coat of fur on his chin. He looks pasty and unhealthy, but has many bowls and plates cluttered around him, each squeaky clean and sour-smelling.

His eyes grow wide. "Dragon!" he hisses.

I fold my wings carefully. They sparkle pleasantly in the darkness, and I feel some of Eyddr's arrogance wash through me. I attempt to take a quick peek in her mind but find that I can't. I feel rather panicked.

_Where am I?_ I demand, but soon realize that I should try to enter the human's mind to talk to him. I reach out with the natural psychic dragon talent, and find a wall blocking me.

"Don't bother," a dull human voice comes from behind me. I whip around and glare into the darkness.

I see long wooden bars reaching up and down the tunnel, with a male human sitting next to them. He's laying on the ground, seemingly bored.

"Galbatorix has this place blocked from mind connections anyway," he continues, fingering the wooden bar with his index finger.

_Blocked from mind connections?_ I wonder.

The other human--the bigger one--sits down with a loud _thump._ He takes a bowl of soup and slurps it up noisily. This reminds me how hungry I am.

"Here," the smaller human says, flinging me some squares of raw meat. "Have this."

I eye him warily, making no move to reach forward and eat his food.

He rolls his eyes--an expression of human contempt or exasperation. "Eat it. I can't, I'm not allowed to use magic to cook it. That's why he gives me raw meat--to tempt me to try."

I reach forward with my neck and snap up a piece, not taking my eyes off the human.

He rolls his eyes again. "I'm Murtagh," he says.

Thorn's Rider.

"I'm a Rider. My dragon's Thorn. I assume you're Armageddon."

I lift my head arrogantly. He says my name in a disgusted way, which I do not like. Dragons have an excessive amount of pride.

"I doubt Galbatorix let you tell him your name. What's your real name?"

I tilt my head at him.

"Mind blocks. Right."

The other human, who we've been ignoring so far, suddenly jumps up.

"Finished your soup, I see," Murtagh says mockingly.

"Be quiet," he growls. "Orders. You gotta do what I tell you to do."

"You're crazy," Murtagh says contemptuously. He adds sideways to me, "A lifetime of no sun will do that to a person."

I simply snap up another piece of meat.

"King's coming," the larger human says. "Gotta get ready."

"For what? Another hour of torture?"

"Gotta get ready," he insists.

Murtagh's eyes land on me, as if he's forgotten I'm there.

"You better get going," he advises. "Now that you've developed your wings and learned how to fly, the king won't be afraid of punishing you."

I tilt my head at him again, wishing Eyddr was here to charm him.

"Go!" he commands. I feel indignant, but a rush of power sparks the air. It startles me into flight, and I choose to leap up and fly away.

…

**OK. My muse died around the end, so sorry about that. And here, I'll explain Murtagh's situation to you: **

**He's behind wooden bars, yes. He could knock them over with a simple flick of him finger, yes. He knock them down with a single punch, yes. But he's not allowed to. Galbatorix placed him there and then told not to do anything. If he did, he'll be punished. With torture. He also gave him raw meat to see if he'll break his rules and cook to quench his hunger. Got it?**

**Paolini didn't give much to work with on the way of a baby dragon. Or Thorn. Or anything, really, concerning dragons and the complex way of how they operate, so I'm making it up as I go. Keep that in mind, please.**

**Ok. Reviews, please.**

~CRYSTAL


	3. The Pond

**Armageddon**

-"Inevitable. Ineffable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it?"- A new Rider story from a Dragon's POV.

…

…

_Dragons are one of the most magical known beings, and whether they like it or not, traits and feeling are shared between both Dragon and their Rider._

"So as you were falling down the stairs, you just _spontaneously _learned to fly?" Eyddr asks skeptically, slipping off her shoes as she sits on her bed.

_Yes, _I say irritably, crossing her room to my makeshift bed. It's a simple basket, padded with a few of Eyddr's old gowns, as Galbatorix wishes for me to become accustomed to her scent. I circle it like a dog, then sit beside it and self-consciously shuffle my newly useful wings.

Eyddr snorts. "Well, that's convenient." She falls back on her back, groaning in a very unladylike manner. "I ate too much."

_Yes, you did. _I inform her. _But where do you think was Thorn?_

_You sure he wasn't there? _Eyddr asks, too lazy to form the words with her own mouth, as she usually prefers.

I give her a universal look that all creatures were likely to recognize, even on the face of a dragon. _I'm sure._

_Hmm. Maybe His Majesty chose to separate them, so as to prolong the suffering? You said it was blocked from mind connections. If Galbatorix did to them what he did to us, then they must seldom close the bridge between their minds. If we got thrown in the dungeons separately, I would be sure to panic._

I never knew Eyddr to think so logically, and fluently.

_I'm not completely worthless, _Eyddr thinks, her thoughts hurt.

I look at her, examining her expensive sleepwear and her surroundings, all hints she took every advantage of the glory of being a Dragon Rider.

_No,_ I tell her. _But you are superficial._

She looks beyond hurt. I feel guilty, but I decide to push it away. I won't lie.

We sit in silence for the rest of the night. Eyddr crawls up her bed to pull down the covers, and she slips inside them without even removing her face paint.

I'm equally as silent as I curl up in my little basket, which I note is exceedingly too small.

…

As I wake up, I immediately shut my eyes again and adjust my pupils.

I open my eyes slowly again and then look around.

Sunlight is streaming through the window, and Eyddr's bed is empty--which is strange, because she never wakes up before at least noon. I'm always awake before her.

"Armageddon," I hear, and twist my head around to look at the door.

Eyddr is holding a basket, her hair done up, her face decorated with various colors, and wearing a new, sky blue gown which I can tell is freshly sowed.

"Armageddon," Eyddr says, putting down the basket and picking me up like a small cat. She sets me on the bed and pulls her old clothes out of my basket.

_What are you doing?_ I demand, slightly offended. I balance on the edge of the bed, about to leap down.

She gives me a look and snaps the clothes at me. I lung back, surprised.

"What do you think?" she snaps, looking furious.

I can't seem to find the words to speak.

Eyddr takes advantage of my silence and piles the clothes in her basket. She swiftly and elegantly walks away, kicking my basket carelessly as she turns.

I collect my senses and follow her.

She doesn't acknowledge me. I follow her all the way to the other side of the castle, and she never says a word. I'm too cautious to try.

Eyddr storms into a small room, me almost missing the opening.

She sets--throws--down the basket with a bang.

_Eyddr?_ I ask. I try to enter her mind to see what it is she's doing, but she's blocked me.

As I look around, I see there's a sort of pond in the room.

I find myself skeptical.

_A pond?_ I wonder.

There are no windows or any openings besides the door, which only leads to an empty corridor I haven't been in before. But the room is unnaturally bright and large, with a cold stone floor and walls.

It's light like it's the middle of the day in here. Moss grows on the walls, and I think there's a bird up there.

_What is this? _I demand of Eyddr, not caring she doesn't hear me.

I'm rather worried as she takes out the clothes in the basket, and I can't help but feel distressed. I first slept in those clothes, first time after I hatched. A hatchling can't help but get attached to her nest.

I almost literally bounce on the stone, as Eyddr gleefully holds out the clothes and plunges them into the water.

_Eyddr!_ I shriek in my head. It's almost a miracle she can't hear me--the sheer volume I manage to collect seems almost unnatural for something as small as me.

Eyddr kicks the whole basket into the water, and though I feel they should float, both the clothes and the basket immediately sink to the bottom of the pond, where I lose sight of them.

Eyddr turns to me.

"Armageddon," she greets, like she's just saw me.

She glides away, looking victorious.

I sit at the edge of the stone, just inches away from touching the water, mourning the loss of my nest. I try to see to the bottom of the pond, but it (as expected) proves impossible.

I wonder what's down there.

I realize the water is murky with settling dirt. This provokes my curiosity.

The water of the pond is still and peaceful. Not even a ripple takes place, so I conclude the water should be clear. Even though Eyddr threw my nest down there just minutes ago, the dirt should have settled by now.

I lean over farther. The harder I look, the better I can see through the reflections the mystery light sheds on the surface.

Suddenly, I see a flash of black.

I wonder what in hell's name is down there.

I lean closer. I feel a sort of déjà vu, from the stairs experience. I consider pulling away from what must be a ridiculous and undignified position, but my curiosity gets in the way.

I see another flash of black, this time ever faster. I trace it as it speeds its way away, as it pauses. I briefly wonder if I'm hallucinating.

No, that's a human damage. Dragons don't get hallucinations--at least I don't think so.

The black form is still unmoving, and I'm starting to think it's a trick of the light, when suddenly it starts to rapidly stream towards me.

Before I even get the chance to think about moving backwards, a very large, very black, very feral-looking dark dragon erupts out of the water and looks down on me as I'm splattered with falling droplets.

Shurikan.

…

**Okay, really sorry for not updating in awhile. But in my defense, my sister was totally hogging the computer. And I was at my dad's house.**

**Anyway, this explains the location of the mysterious Shurikan. I put him in a pond because I severely doubt he was hiding behind a map of Alagaesia for an entire book like the movie says he was. And since the book never explained where exactly he stays in one of the most populated cities (or I'm assuming Uru'baen is) without sparking even a bit of panic and also since Galbatorix kind of killed his map in the movie, I put him in a pond. Dragons can hold their breath a lot longer than humans.**

**Plus, the pond is really important to my plot bunny. You'll see.**

**Also, what kind of personality should I give Shurikan? I can't decide.**

**I NEED TO KNOW THIS: How do people in the Inheritance world curse? Do they go 'Oh my God', or something, and what's the equivalent to it? Does anybody know????**

**And this chapter gives you more to go on for Eyddr's character. (For those of you wondering, Eyddr means 'empty'. Seriously. Check your books.) She's pretty vindictive, isn't she?**

**And do I spell Alagaesia right?**

**Also, some trivia. I wrote this listening to the Veronicas 'I Can't Stay Away'. Just felt like putting that in.**

**Anyways, hope this didn't disappoint. Review!**

~CSRYTAL


	4. The Dragon

**Armageddon**

-"Inevitable. Ineffable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it?"-

…

…

_Dragons are the most powerful, magical, mysterious being of Alagaesia._

Still leaning almost completely horizontal over the edge of the stone, I sink my talons into the surprisingly soft rock in alarm.

The black dragon shakes the water off of his muzzle and holds his long neck above the surface, still splattering me with water.

I attempt to scrabble back but find myself slipping. Instinctively, I flare my wings and I pull back.

Now upright, I prowl backwards slowly, crouching under Shurikan's impenetrable gaze. My back right leg scrabbles over a loose stone, and it slips out from under me. My underbelly hits the ground.

I feel him entering my mind, a dark, black presence I don't really like much.

_A clumsy dragon,_ his scornful voice echoes in my mind. _What a shame._

I flatten myself to the floor. My instincts are screaming at me to fly far, far away and never look back. I hook the edges of my wings unconsciously in preparation.

I feel a shadow cross over myself, and a slight wind ruffling the moss on the walls.

The big black head swoops down and Shurikan rests his snout just inches from me.

His eye is as big as my head. His fang is as big as my leg.

This is not really a type of dragon I like to meet.

_We should not have brought you your Rider so soon,_ he observes. _Maybe some more time in the egg would have made you more agile._

I don't say anything. I'm too fixated on the terror right now.

_On second thought, probably not. Your Rider will be able to teach you more about your limits. _

My Rider?

I'm too frightened to even realize he's talking about Eyddr at first. When I do, my mind flashes to a picture of her at her prime, in her golden dress at the announcement ceremony, where I was first presented to the world.

I grab the picture and hold on to it, seeking comfort from my bonded.

Shurikan observes her as well.

_She's rather beautiful,_ he thinks to me._ For a human, anyway. Galbatorix could not have chosen a better bride._

Bride?

_Yes, His Majesty has chosen to marry her. She will be the queen--she looks royal enough to fill the position._

She's too young.

_She's eighteen. She's much, much older than you yourself--years. You entered this world only seven days ago, hatchling._ His voice is filled with contempt.

Shurikan lifts his head from leveling with me. I'm still pressed to the ground as flat as can be, and Shurikan slips into the water until only his head is showing. This is so ridiculous it's alarming, but I don't choose to let him know this.

_Don't forget, hatchling,_ Shurikan thinks to me._ You're to follow orders._

I stare at him while he sinks into the water.

I'm still frozen to the ground in terror, when the door opens and Eyddr runs in, her dress frayed and ripped at the sleeves.

She gasps at me. I can't help thinking she's rather good at being a helpless damsel in distress.

"Armageddon!"

Eyddr runs over, and picks me up, holding me like a cat.

"Armageddon, what happened?" she asks anxiously.

I break out of my state and attempt to struggle down from her arms.

_Let me go!_ I demand.

She doesn't. _Not until you tell me what happened._

_I'm not a cat, blast it! Let me down!_

She lets me down rather reluctantly but keeps a firm hold on my back spikes.

I attempt to wriggle away, but find I can't.

_This is very demeaning,_ I inform Eyddr, folding my legs and resting on the ground. She sits down beside me, still keeping me in place.

_It's necessary._

I snap my jaws at her briefly, but she doesn't take the threat.

_What happened?_

My mind flashes to a picture of Shurikan, and she takes a quick look. Gasping, her eyes grow wide.

_Oh my, Armageddon, are you alright?_ she asks anxiously, fluttering her hands.

I quickly creep away slightly before she can grab onto me again.

_I'm fine,_ I say. _Your overdramatics are unnecessary._

_I'm not overdramatic,_ she protests swiftly.

I let it go. We sit there in silence for awhile, her running over the scenes in my head.

Eventually, she talks.

_I don't know why you are so frightened of him,_ she says. _If Galbatorix has truly chosen my as his bride_--she feels a spark of pleasure at these words--_he will not be able to harm us. We're bonded, are we not?_

I feel irritated at her naiveté. Eyddr is much too used to depending on her looks to really be of any help.

_I help,_ she insists. Not wanting another loss like the one of my nest, I let it go. Eyddr is much too vengeful for me to say anything freely.

We sit in silence, until I realize that I'm still sitting by the lake. Quickly leaping up, I flare my wings and soar out of the room, Eyddr following.

_And you call me dramatic._

...

**Now, I realize this was rather short. But still... review? I've got the next chapter almost done, so please leave a note.**

**Also, side note: Armageddon is the final confrontation between good and evil. Just wanted to let you all know, if you didn't already.**

~CRYSTAL


	5. The Princess

**Armageddon**

-"Inevitable. Ineffable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it?"- A new Rider story from a dragon's POV.

...

...

_Unsavory is truly the only way to explain the relationship between a Rider and her dragon._

This is true in so many ways. My Rider is truly more than everything to me, but in other ways she is the one thing I would simply love to eat. And vice versa, of course. The torrent of emotions (both mine and hers) and constant lack of privacy is just unsettling (disturbing) in so many ways.

I've no doubt that once she and His Majesty marry, the new queen will become even more insufferable than of the current date.

I pity her new subjects.

...

"I _love_ weddings," the spectacularly-dressed and lavish new bride-to-be says. "They're so wonderful and sweet. I can only hope that mine will be half as extravagant."

_I'm sure you do, _I note dryly as she flings herself onto her bed. Her trademark golden dress has given way to lightly blue colored threads, a beautiful dress that even I can appreciate. Lace is heaped from the ends of her sleeves, making them at least seven inches longer than originally crafted. More circles her neckline softly, and the ends of her dress whilst her hair is pulled back into a long tail which plunges almost to her waist.

She claims she pinned her hair back in order not to show up the bride. I understand it is because she wishes to show off her new emerald earrings, gifted to her by the king himself.

Eyddr smiles, lost in thought of her own wedding. The event of the century, I've no doubt. The king's new bride.

"They're so wonderful," she repeats. "And such a useful tactic of society--it's how a princess becomes a queen, you know," she adds to me.

_I know,_ I say. _But you're no princess, Eyddr. Especially not his. _

"Well, of course," she agrees. "That would be completely unsavory. But it's all in the mind, Armageddon, and in his mind I am perfect royalty just in store for his proposal."

_I suppose you and him are bonded now, too?_

"In heart and soul, Armageddon, in heart and soul." And she's gone again, dreaming of her initiation into the royal family. Just imagine if she bore him a son!

_He'd probably strangle him in his sleep, _I think spitefully, curling up in my extraordinarily comfortable but not quite perfect new nest. It's a simple down pillow, covered with a thin blanket of tightly-threaded silk and cotton. It's been enlarged specifically for my purpose. _Galbatorix does not wish for any successors._

_Don't be ridiculous,_ she thinks to me sleepily. _His Majesty would be honored to have a son, and I would be honored to bear it. Just think... I would be unmovable from my position as queen... if I gave him a son. And you, Armageddon, you might even be a mother alongside me. _She smiles blearily.

_I don't think so, _I say, miffed. _The gestation period of dragons is much longer than a human's, Eyddr, I thought even you would know this. It takes approximately eleven months apiece for each egg, and you know a mother will not give her young leave of her body until at least the second egg is halfway done with its development._

_Armageddon, hush._ she mumbles. _I'm so tir--_a yawn catches her mid-sentence, and the remarkable stretch of her jaw muscles apparently wears her out, because the moment she relaxes she's dead asleep.

It ruffles me how she can so easily brush off my comments. I listen to her, do I not?

I hope she has nightmares about my teeth.

...

"Armageddon, HUSH! I'm so drop-dead exhausted it is not even amus--I thought I told you to quiet! Blast it, Armageddon, I'm your Rider, not your mother! _SILENCE YOURSELF._"

Eyddr almost literally roars her last two words (even though they completely maul her point, at their volume) like they're her dying wishes, and she effectively silences the entire dining hall.

She and I are caught in a ridiculously-overplayed staring contest of some sort; her eyes are wide and intense and I believe mine are slitted intimidatingly. I'm almost worried my eyes will get stuck like this when the contest is broken by a large yawn. It enters my mind that a yawn a notch more intense would completely unhinge her jaws.

It's the first time I've seen her that she is not anything less than perfect. Her hair is hurriedly brushed and blearily flung over her shoulder, violet half-moons hang under her eyes and the dress she's wearing has actual _wrinkles._ She looks almost... normal.

Bah, this is ridiculous. Eyddr will forever be anything but the norm--always the one with the beauty, attention, surprising wit and the Green Dragon by her side. Her hair might be unglossed and her eyes may be unlined by kohl but she is still the queen-in-pending for the entire land of Alagaesia and the most recent Rider.

"Blegh," she moans unintelligibly. For once uncaring of what her soon-to-be subjects think of her, she thumps her head on the table and rests there.

I follow her. It's been eighteen days since I've visited the Water Room (as Eyddr has dubbed it) and encountered Shurikan. Since then Eyddr has learned exactly fifty-seven words of the ancient language, and memorized thirty-five.

I have been introduced to the heart of hearts, which is an odd egg-like form that generates extraordinary power. I've grown quickly--five feet and three inches exactly since I've been exposed to these amazing power generators, and though Eyddr is vaguely curious as to what they are, I find myself quite content.

Galbatorix has had Eyddr's chambers' entrances enlarged simply for myself and my new size. I'm taller than my Rider now, and though I can no longer slink through the passageways like the hatchling I once was, I am enjoying the attention I receive. I suppose Eyddr has rubbed off on me.

His Majesty has seen my disapproval of him marrying my Eyddr, but he has chosen not to confront me about it. I find myself weakening in my dislike of him--quite the charming human, he is. I honestly look forward to the days when Eyddr holds power equal to his own, and we shall fly throughout the skies alongside each other, the issue of Shurikan aside.

But I shan't trouble myself with the black dragon right now. I have other responsibilities to attend to, not the least of which my unresponsive Rider. What would His Majesty think if he came across Eyddr right now--his wholly disgraceful and unglamorous bride.

Last night, at the wedding of Miss Practicia Brown to the new Duke Woodsworth, Galbatorix announced his intentions to his kingdom--he had chosen a bride, someone honorable and powerful and royal, someone to be the face of his country, and that bride was the Green Rider. Eyddr and himself danced the night away, which is why we returned at morning and are awake, two hours post. I napped upon the sidelines, snatching up roasted pig every now and then. Cooked meat has its perks, I suppose. Not the least of which the seasoning.

_Eyddr,_ I prod her with my front claws, lightly. _Eyddr. Wake up. _

A slight groan is my response.

_Come, Eyddr. What would your kingdom think, to find you napping in the dining hall? How would they feel? You know how they would feel? Ashamed. You are the face of your country, a beautiful, strong country which needs a beautiful and strong woman to represent it. His Majesty has chosen you, my Eyddr, and you are anything but beautiful and strong at the moment. Wake up.  
_

She grumbles at me, but blinks unfocused eyes awake.

...

It is late afternoon by the time we steal back to the dining hall. At first, the plan was to replenish my Rider's beauty with face paint and kohl. Once we realized how useless this was--Eyddr's beauty might be skin deep, but it is her natural skin which supplies the beauty, not faux colors--we chose to take a short nap. I was to wake up my Rider in the course of two hours.

This plan failed, as I did when I fell deeply into slumber myself and did not return until Eyddr shook me awake. It was hours later and she was beautiful and sharp again, so at least it worked.

As we slink back downstairs, or best as we can being a furious woman and a clumsy dragon, we instantly acquire food and Eyddr so tactfully brings up the subject of my recent laziness.

"You're getting fat, Armageddon," she pats the new belly pudge as I sit beside her table, waiting patiently like the nice dragon I am. She tears into her bread. "Have you started hunting? I don't think you've _ever_ left this castle. You've just been getting meat from the butchers in the kitchen, haven't you?" she accuses, though she knows the answers as well as I. "I know as soon as Galbatorix gives you another exposure to the heart of hearts you will shoot up again, but honestly, Armageddon, you've no pride."

_I am your dragon,_ I think sourly. _I think that is slightly more than impossible. _

"You'll go hunting," she insists. "I'll see to it."

"She hasn't been hunting? No wonder she's so pudgy." A new snide voice joins our conversation. "Last I saw her she was fit young hatchling, afraid of even a magic show."

We look up, synchronized in our shock. It's a face both Eyddr and I are familiar with--me from experience and her from my memories.

Never one to lose face, Eyddr promptly sneers. "The prisoner, is it?" she snarls. "What--were you already hung or have you turned traitor?"

"I think I've already been hung, but you never know," he returns good-naturedly. He settles into the light, grimy, smelly, and thoroughly disgusting.

"Has His Majesty been letting you run around unleashed?" my Eyddr demands? "Blast it, no wonder he's kept you locked up. You're a disgrace."

"I suppose. But not quite as much as your fat dragon." Murtagh returns.

...

**Yes. I am ending here. **

**Sorry for spelling mistakes. Sorry for the complete untruth about dragon's gestation period shizz and stuff. Made it up on the spot. Needed a comeback for Eyddr's comment.  
**

**Terribly sorry for my disappearance. I'm not sure what happened, but apparently the stuff about having the next chapter almost done was a complete lie. Or maybe I did have it done. I don't know, I don't remember. Plus I went kinda wild with the whole 'School's up again! Things to get yelled at for!' thing, which kinda set in late. Also, I got lazy. Like Armageddon, the fat dragon. I like saying that. **

**So, seems like our favorite fire-breather's getting a little called into the whole Galbatorix reign. She's got alotta character development stored up. **

**And ooh! Murtagh's ON THE SCENE. **

~C


End file.
